


Little Living Doll

by BedheadAries



Category: Dororo (Anime 2019), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-11-15 14:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BedheadAries/pseuds/BedheadAries
Summary: Tony Stark's life was never private, not from the moment he was born. But if there was anything, anything no one knew about, including Pepper, was thatTony Starkhadbeen a father.During an alien invasion, Tony Stark's unnamed son was killed.Years later, Tony crosses paths with a silent, yet unusually perceptive living doll.OR: A Dororo AU because I can't get it out of my head.





	1. Deserving

**Author's Note:**

> A Dororo AU that I just love because I'm obsessed with both fandoms and am itching to see what will happen.
> 
> Also, this is FAR FROM CANON-COMPLIANT. BOTH DORORO AND MCU. The movies amd eventd don't happen in order (only the movies with Iron Man match perfectly)

 

 

There were a lot more reasons why Tony Stark got worse and worse after his superhero debut. The stress, the media, the insecurities, and one last thing. One last thing.

His unnamed son, his little Stark.

He got the news shortly after the incident with Obadiah. He knew he wasn't ready. He wasn't sane enough to take care, or... or... or kind enough to _love_ a kid. _His_ kid. He wasn't father material. Howard certainly wasn't, and Tony won't be too.

He's got a bad reputation in the media, has his life watched 24/7 for any minor or major mistakes, had a lot of women, a party addict, and alcoholic.

Heck, he was even drinking one right then and there. He remembers massaging his temples, whispering into his hands and rubbing them together, and lets his head drop onto the counter as the bad memories come rushing in.

He wasn't ready. His decisive and assertive self disappeared within minutes. It always does when nobody was around. When he forgets to lie to himself 24/7.

He felt guilty, no matter what he says to himself.

There is a lot of things wrong **_with_** _him,_ a lot of things the world did wrong **_to_** _him_ , and in turn, inumerable things **_he's_** done wrong _**to**_ _them._

But maybe this could be the only thing he'd do right.

The kid doesn't deserve to be loved by Tony Stark, he doesn't deserve to see a struggling father. And Tony Stark doesn't deserve to be loved by anyone, or love anyone.

Maybe, if he changes...

He stared at the cue cards that Agent got him. His alibi, another lie, something he'd hide from the public. Something he'd have to hide until someone else told him it was fine, IF they will tell him it was fine.

Maybe if he changes, he'd get to deserve his kid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's not iron. It's a gold titanium alloy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The truth is,"

_**"I am Iron Man."** _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony Stark was an orphan. He didn't know how to raise his half-orphan kid. But he was going to try his best.

His precious little boy, his precious child.

He was going to fix the Starks curse. The new generation if Starks will start with him. Nobody deserves to live like he did.

Little soft hands touch his face, brushing his goatee. If the tiny child ever tried to pull it off painfully, he could never be angry. One look at his kid's eyes, and he could see the innocence radiating within them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Mythical beasts ravage NYC! An alien invasion is taking place and we advise everyone to evacuate immediately--"_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Wait, is that! It is! Iron Man is currently taking on the monster alone--"_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Ladies and gentlemen please evacuate if you are within a radius of--"_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"--expect colossal damages so please evacuate and if you're in a safe place, please stay indoors until further notice--"_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"A strange poral has opened right above NYC. Iron Man is still fighting--"_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"The Stark Tower has partially collapsed--"_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It seems to be immune to attack, sir." JARVIS' voice resonated inside his helmet. Tony stared at the beast infront of him. It doesn't look like was from another planet, it looked more like it was from another dimension. Like a hybrid between shadows and a tigress blown out of proportion.

_"Yyyyyo-oo..."_ The creature began to speak, and Tony would be lying if he ever said the sound wasn't terrifying.

_"Yyoouu..."_

_"Yoou don-t ssta-nd a ch-hance again-st me!"_

Dark clouds start to emerge from beneath all the collapsed buildings, twirling, swirling high up into the sky and gathering above the whole city. A wormhole opens above them, and more shadows poured out of the dark abyss. Everywhere the shadows touched, buildings would collapse and streets would crumble.

"Yeah listen you dementor _rip-off_ , sorry we don't allow weird things invading our planet so if you would kindly--" a shadow pounced on him from behind. He quickly turned back at shot it before it even came close. "--first off, _rude_ , and second don't interrupt me. _Now_ _ **bippity**_ _**bobbity**_ _**back**_ _the_ _ **@#$% up**_."

The shadow screeched and flashed away, pounding into buildings as it made its way all around the city. It ate up the people and swallowed them whole. They controlled people amd made them go beserk. They burned and ravaged everything in their path.

And in this world, police can't fight these monsters. And in this world, the only other 'superhero' was a comic book character back in the old warring days.

And he was here, a normal man inside a metal suit. Who had his kid

_"Wwwhaaatt do you f-earr th-e mo-sst Tony Stt-ark?"_

His breath caught in his throat. No, he shouldn't think of that right now. Because he'll alwaus come home. Always. For his kid.

The shadow beast snorted.

_"I see-ee... I seeeEEE!!!"_

Tony unleashed 141 mini-missiles and 34 repulsor blasts, only a small portion hitting the shadow beast. So? the arc reactor blast damages them, though it had little effect.

The shadows dispersed and sped towards the ground, it blended itself within the creaks and cracks of the road, the concrete, and the Stark tower. The tower groaned as it was torn off the ground. The glass windows exploded from botton to top, as the world spun around.

The shadow shot up at an alarming rate, shooting from the ground and up until the tallest room of the Stark Tower, the room where--

"JARVIS! Protocol Nemesis!" The walls of the tower plopped open, several walls around the city were pulvurized as the Stark Tower gleamed brighter in the sky, an gigantic a rc reactor powering up and radiating...

"JARVIS IS ANYONE AROUND?!?"

"108 casualties, 13 injured, all of them evacuating. There is a chance of dealing 2nd degree burns."

"Shield him. _Shield him JARVIS._ _ **SHIELD HIM!**_ "

"JARVIS, _**OVERLOAD**_ **_NOW_**!"

The ground exploded beneath them, dissolving the creatures with the blinding light.

Tony didn't miss a beat.

"JARVIS, how is he?"

"He is unharmed, sir," was JARVIS' quick reply.

_"Yyoouu..."_

_"Y-ou'll regre-t th-hiss."_

_"Mu-st takk-e som-et-hing... from yo-uuu-u--"_ A flash of lightning, one that rivaled Tony's earlier arc reactor stunt, rankled and thunder shook the skies.

.

.

.

 

_"Itt- do-esn't ha-ve tt-o be y-oou-uuu."_

_The so_ _und of a screaming baby echoes in the air._

 

 


	2. Right (Here)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... to keep them fighting for another day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Butchering characterizations because i suck at this.

Bruce didn't know what to make of the situation on his hands. He had recently arrived to help at NYC after the disastrous alien invasion. They needed experts on the field, and Bruce happened to be experienced in treating the injured. Not to mention, not much knew how to treat wounds inflicted by monsters.  
  
"We appreciate your help here, Doctor Banner."  
  
Bruce shook his head, amused. "I'm just uh, happy to help. Not much happens where I was staying." And there goes the last stitch.  
  
"So, uh," the man began, and Bruce took a quick look at the guy's ID. Kevin. "What do you do nowadays Dr. Banner? If you're not treating people?"  
  
Bruce quickly moved on to the other casualty. He grunted as he ripped off the jeans of the guy with metal stuck in his leg.  
  
"... I'm experimenting on prosthetics. Life-like ones. Extensions of the human body. Excuse me," Bruce gently patted the patient's legs, checking if there was more injuries down to the foot.  
  
The man screeched and waved his fist all around him. There was a broken bone down the lower calf.  
  
"Sir, calm down! Calm down!" Bruce immediately let go of the leg and proceeded to calm the man. The man immediately started hitting Bruce's arm. Hard.  
  
Kevin rushed to Bruce's side and pinned the man down.  
  
"It's fine Kevin, I've had this happen before." Bruce gave a pained smile.  
  
"It's dangerous, Dr. Banner." Kevin insisted. The man throwing the hissy fit kept sturggling, the broken limb must have been twisted seeing that he was in agony.  
  
"No, no, Kevin... it's fine."  
  
"Dr. Banner," Kevin spoke lowly. "I insist."  
  
Oh. Right. The green guy. Did Kevin think the green guy would take over? Is... is that how it is?  
  
"Dr. Banner, I think Team 2 would appreciate your help. We're running low on people willing to take the... casualties out of here."  
  
Bruce gave a bitter smile, a small nod, and left.  
  
The members of Team 2 were less friendly than Kevin. And it turns out, Team 2 were for the cleaning up the bodies.  
  
The injured were slowly being taken away to hospitals, and the rescued survivors were slowly trickling out of their hiding places. He heard clamours of whispers and crying.  
  
"Oh that poor soul," He heard an old lady pass by. "They're all to young to die."  
  
He drowned them all out easily. He had to if he wanted to control himself. He drowned out all the lamentations and whispers. If he had listened he would have heard them say,  
  
"What the #$%@ is Tony Stark doing here?"  
  
"He's probably here to look how much money his reckless fighting costs. It's not like it'd even put a dent in his wallet."  
  
"He's staring at the victims."  
  
"Oh he's leaving."  
  
If he listened, he would have heard Tony's heart break along with everyone else.  
  
He didn't hear, but he saw.  
  
Amidst the rubble between the unfinished Stark Tower and an apartment complex, they picked up a bundle of sadness. Right in the spot where Tony Stark was horrifiedly staring at.  
  
A member of Team 2 took one look at it, and almost dropped it in disgust. They carried it away into the pile, and went off to get a body bag that would fit the poor thing.  
  
Bruce happened to have his abundance of body bags tucked under his arm.  
  
He slowly made his way towards the pile, and placed down his stack of bags. Out of all the casualties, this was most certainly the youngest. Only about a few months old. He steeled himself, turning green only a smidge at the neck as he opened the zipper. No one this young deserves to pass.  
  
It was during his musing that he saw the bundle move. Was it the wind? Was it something else?  
  
The bundle wriggled up and down.  
  
It was alive.  
  
How could they have thought it was dead? Sure it was in the rubble but there should be the benefit of the doubt---  
  
How... how could this happen? How did this happen?  
  
The baby had no skin, no eyes, no nose, or limbs. The baby didn't seem to have a voice either.  
  
But it was alive nonetheless.  
  
"I-it's alive!" Bruce exclaimed. "E-excuse me! Excuse me! This baby is alive!"  
  
A team member runs towards him, takes on last look at the bundle in his arms, and shivers at the sight. Bruce could tell he didn't mean it.  
  
"If they aren't dead, I don't think they'll last long, doctor. It's bleeding, with missing body parts... I'm sorry," The member sighed. He looked apologetic enough."There's a lot of bodies to dig out of the rubble, Dr. Banner."  
  
Bruce looked at the bundle in his arms. So weak, so... fragile. The young man must have seen how Bruce held the child tighter. He looked around him, seeing that progress could still be possible with one less person.  
  
"I suppose you could... comfort them. If that is what you want to do, Dr. Banner. I'd rather not have you to be attached but..."  
  
Bruce snapped out of his daze. "Oh. Uh, I can... I can do that? I don't want to cause delay---"  
  
"It's fine Dr. Banner, you've done enough for us today." The member smiled and ran off to his group.  
  
Bruce held the child tighter.  
  
Somehow, he didn't feel appalled by its appearance. It was a terrible thing to happen to a child, yes, but somehow, something tells him:  
  
This one's a fighter.  
  
And Bruce would do everything he can to let him keep fighting for one more day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the OCCness... yeahhh...  
> If you haven't noticed, canon is currently falling about 92 floors off the ground right now. Threw themselves off the Stark Tower window because I'm not very compliant.


	3. Makeshift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce takes him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dororo Ep. 12 is coming out on Monday! EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!  
> Oh, Avengers: Endgame is also coming out soon! EEEK!

Tony didn't know what to do. Would he bring him home? Would he leave him there? Would he carry the body of his most prized possesion, or would he leave him there... along with the casualties?  
  
He wasn't fine. It wasn't fine. I'm not fine. I'm not fine.  
  
Before he left, he wrapped him up in a neat blanket, covered in stars and colorful planets. Before he left, he kissed his forehead. Before he left, he should had made sure he was safe. He should have found a way to destroy the shadows quicker. He should've. He should've.  
  
He took the bundle in his arms, one last time. A tight squeeze, but never too tight. As if he didn't want to harm his son. As if he was still alive.  
  
No parent should ever outlive their own child.  
  
Tony Stark shouldn't.  
  
He shouldn't have.  
  
Tony should not have outlived his own son.  
  
What would he do with his kid now. Hold a private ceremony? Bury him in his house? Or...  
  
He left. He left. He ****ing left. Tony Stark wad a coward. Tony Stark shouldn't have felt like he deserved him. The kid would be buried in the nice cementary, where all the casualties were. They always were. The kid doesn't need Tony Stark crying everyday over his grave, saying his apologies over and over - he doesn't deserve that torture.  
  
And so he left. He left. Tony Stark left.  
  
But someone else stayed. Bruce stayed.  
  
And he would tend the flame in Tony's absence.

* * *

Bruce wasn't ready to be a parent. I mean, he was kinda ready when he said he'll keep the kid, but raising one was Hela different. (Hehe)  
  
The kid doesn't cry loud since they didn't seem to have a voice. But it was the fact kept Bruce awake all night. He was constantly there checking on the child's condition, looking for any changes and threats.  
  
His roller chair glides across the floor for a few seconds, and he now faces his workdesk. The makeshift 'crib' of baskets and books was right beside Bruce, to make sure he doesn't miss anything. Sure, the child didn't have any limbs, but it could roll off and Bruce wasn't going to take any chances.  
  
Now, off to work he goes.  
  
The exposed muscle shouldn't be too comfortable, and the kid didn't have skin which means they could contract infections and all sorts of complications. He couldn't regrow the skin. He had learned not to tamper with life using science. There was a little grey area there, but this doesn't feel right.  
  
Of course, he could cover the kid with some medical plaster, but he wasn't sure about letting the kid turn into a living band-aid. But the kid... might not even last too long.  
  
Maybe, if he survuves the night, he would be thinking long term.  
  
But for the time being...  
  
Bruce wrapped the kid all over... like a Christmas present.  
  
He looks at the clock. 10:51 PM. About... lunch time in the other side of the world. And on the other side of the world, there is someone who could help him.  
  
He rummages through his bag, pulling out a book where he had compiled all his contacts for future reference. He remembered a name.  
  
Dr. Helen Cho.  
  
She picked up at the second ring.  
  
"Hello?" Her soothing voice echoes through the line.  
  
"Uh... hello? Dr. Cho?" Bruce mumbled. How was he going to explain this?  
  
"Yes? May I ask who this is?"  
  
"I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, we uh, met sometime ago in a convention?"  
  
"Bruce Banner..." Helen tried out the name, hoping it would ring a bell. "Ah! Dr. Banner! The gamma and prosthetics one, is it?"  
  
"Uh yes. Uh... yeah. Excuse me, Dr. Cho, you were the one that invented the 'Cradle', right?"  
  
"Yes? What could I do to help you? Last time I checked, gamma didn't have much to do with my field. Prosthetics is a little but..."  
  
"Uh, I wasn't--- I wasn't going to ask about that, Dr. Cho, I... I have someone who needs your help right now."  
  
There was a pause in the other line, and when Helen came on again her voice is much more intrigued, focused, and sharp. "How soon do you need me there?"  
  
"I don't really know. Maybe in the morning?"  
  
"In the morning?" She asked, sounding confused. "What do you mean by 'morning'? Do they not need urgent attention?"  
  
"It's... a little complicated." Bruce whimpered then sighed. "It would be best that you see the situation for yourself, if possible.  
  
"Dr. Banner," Helen spoke carefully, "what is going on over there?"  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the shortness ofnthe chapter...
> 
> So Helen is a freakin genius, so I figured she would know that is Bruce's last resort if he ever contacted her. The hospitals should deal with the injuries, but if tissue regeneration was badly and urgently needed then something must be wrong. Like wrong wrong. Also, I really liked Bruce because he's like a confused puppy 85% of the time. Like, "how long was I gone?" "Broke up? Like a band? Like the Beatles?" "Are you an alien? --- N-no." And also... "Is that Paul Rudd?! Is that paul Rudd?!?"
> 
> And also, I don't know how to end chapters so like yeah.


	4. Retention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "... you're lucky..."

"Dr. Banner," Helen nodded as she exited the staircase. Bruce gave a small nod in return and stepped away to let her pass through.  
  
"Uh, should I..." He gestured towards the bag in woman's hand, "do you want me to put that away for you or..."  
  
"No, it's fine," She curtly refused, she face becoming more serious. "What happened?"  
  
Bruce led her through the small living space, passing the living area (a large aquarium in the corner, she noted,) and into his workstation. Now, though it was a small cramped space, it was still amazing.  
  
Prothetics could be found neatly tucked away, some were un full display on a metal rack, some upright in on rods, and some were being worked on over the numerous counters.  
  
Bruce led her attention to the pile of books, bars, and pillows. She could see him frown as he tugs the edge of a bathtowel that was seemingly wrapped around something.  
  
It was a baby.  
  
Her eyes widened at the sight.  
  
"I was hoping you could help him." Bruce pleaded. "He doesn't have a voice, no ears, no eyes... nothing."  
  
She stepped closer, breathing deeply, and looks at Bruce for permission. "May I?" At Bruce's curt nod and quick 'sure,' she took the infant in her arms to further look at him.  
  
"The Cradle doesn't make new tissue. It only aids the body to regrow them. The body knows how to repair itself, but for his case... those muscles and tissue aren't regenerative, they don't know how to grow back."  
  
"I was hoping. But even if those areas don't, the skin should be able to be fixed, right? If he is left like this, he might contract something. I just want to... protect him more."  
  
Helen took another look at the child.  
  
"Yes. The skin could be restored," she gave him a gentle smile, "I'll do everything that I can."  
\-------------------  
"Where did you find him?" Helen asked, unloading the rest of the Cradle.  
  
"We uh, thought he was a casualty. I was... I was the one that was supposed to bag him up." Bruce explained. "Why?"  
  
"Oh, it helps me understand him more," Helen started, "also, you seem a little too tense over there. I wouldn't want you to faint." She joked.  
  
"You know... you know about the green guy?"  
  
"Oh yes," She spoke, twisting a part till it snap into place, "not that it affects me in any way." She smiled. "Where did you find him?"  
  
"Under a collapsed apartment. He was the only one without an adult or anyone nearby."  
  
"Have you checked for any other injuries? He was collapsed on."  
  
"I checked. Thrice even. Nothing else stands out. He had a few cuts, but miraculously, he doesn't have any bruises."  
  
"That's good."  
  
Helen only hummed as she continued her work.  
  
"You're lucky. He's still small, which means we can cover up a large area quickly." She brushed her fingers on the finished Cradle. "But the Cradle is still in development. There are a lot of improvements to do. He's still a baby, and I'm afraid that if we begin on the regeneration of all skin and muscles immediately he might undergo some sort of shock. Though it is his own skin, the immediate addition might cause rejection."  
  
"Where should we start then?"  
  
"Possibly the membrane first. It would do better than this crocodile wrap he has on right now."  
  
Bruce blinked. "Cr-crocodile wrap..."  
  
"I'll focus on the membrane first. The membrane is thin, aand though it covers a large area, it'll be manageable. The skin and other tissues, well, we'd have to do that in parts."  
  
"How long?"  
  
"The membrane should take about 2 hours to complete. He's still a kid." She motioned to the Cradle's bed. Bruce scooped up the tiny child gently in his arms and carefully laid him down on the Cradle.  
  
The whirring of the Cradle could be heard as a long armature suddenly emitted rays of light and projected themselves into the child's body, more specifically on the shoulder.  
  
Bruce watched as from those rays, a thin, translucent layer began to grow.  
  
"The procedure would finish in 2 hours. You might want to find something to do. Perhaps your prosthetics?"  
  
Bruce blinked for the second time.  
  
"Uh... right. I'd better get on with that." He spun around to head to his work. Helen followed, making sure to keep the Cradle in her sights.  
  
"I'm curious of your work, Dr. Banner. What made you transition to prosthetics?"  
  
"Not much." He spoke as he slumped on his chair. At her silence, he continued. "I just thought I could help more this way."  
  
"Your prosthetics, are they shallow or, do they have electronics or anything?"  
  
"Some do, some don't. We don't have portable energy sources everywhere we go. They eventually deplete, rendering the device useless. That's why I try to make them articulate by attatching them to certain muscles in the shoudlders or the arms. It's a little less realistic, but they remain useful." He smiled. He pulls out a large graphing paper.  
  
"I took down his measurements last night. He's still a small kid, so I'm making it a little bigger. I might give it to him when he's a few months old." She inspects the workspace even more.  
  
"Is that what I think it is?"  
  
"Huh? Yes. It's a printer. It's kind of hard to make the parts from scratch. It's possible, but the intricate ones are a bit..."  
  
"I've seen one of these, they weren't very useful for the large pieces. I make my prototypes out of metal usually, I actually prefer them."  
  
"Oh, I had it tweaked a bit. I got an old model from a junkshop, semi-hollowed out. I had a friend of mine, Teshhi, to make one for me. "  
  
"Interesting." She mused. "What else do you have here?"  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hey guys, apparently 3D printing has been here for quuuuiittttteeee while now, but peaked / boomed during around 2009. Iron Man came out in 2008 and the second movie in 2010. So yeah, the first parts of the fic take place between 2008 and 2010. Yep. Avengers were a thing in 2012. Just so you know where we are. For the younglings out here... that's the timeline.
> 
> 2008:  
> Peter is born  
> Tony fight Obadiah  
> 3D printers were kind of a thing  
> 2009:  
> 3D printers are now a thing  
> Tony fights the weird shadows  
> Bruce adopts peter  
> 2010: Iron Man 2  
> Touchscreens, phones, and tablets are a thing.  
> 2012: Avengers (1) yeah  
> 2013:  
> Frozen was a thing.
> 
> (I'm not saying that I'll follow the order of the movies exactly, i'm just saying that these were the things going on at those years and I might base the fic on those facts. The events of the movies aren't going to play out exactly like the movies because of the tiny tweak I made at the start okay? Some events will happen earlier without prior notice...)
> 
> (Also, the 3D printer thing is a real story. A teacher/engineer from a university in my country (I had the pleasure of meeting him) made his own from scratch and it actually works! Like, so cool. Also, the name Teshhi is the name of my old classmate. Take a guess where he's from.)
> 
> (Also, I tweaked the Cradle okay???????? It doesn't just "print tissue". Remember, this is an older version, and I wanted to make stuff more... "grounded". Some tissues do regrow, but some regrow and lose their function. I'm saying, the Cradle "speeds up the process/aids in recreating, but something has to be there in the first place to base stuff on. If you lose an eye, the cradle can't "print the eye" since when you lose an eye, your DNA doesn't know how to "regrow" or "heal" one. Yeahhhhhhh.)
> 
> Damn, that's a long note. Sorry I cut this chapter this way, but I was running out of ideas on how to interact with people.


	5. Strange Happenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can help..."

Peter had been living with Bruce for 9 years now. Since Peter had nothing to be used to identify himself, Bruce had adopted him as his own. Bruce didn't know how to communicate with him. Peter couldn't speak, hear, or see. But Bruce did know something, Peter was very, very bright.  
  
Peter would walk across a room, and bump into everything imaginable. Bookshelves, trays, trolleys, tables, chairs, and most commonly, walls. Everytime Peter would crash into a wall, he'd place his hands on it, and feel. He would walk parallel to it until he reaches the end of the wall and into a doorway, or hit another object.  
  
It was a few weeks later that Bruce noticed Peter roamed around the room without hitting anything. It was like Peter had formed a map of the place inside his head.  
  
And even though Peter had no sense of sight, smell, and hearing, Peter had the strange ability to sense danger. Not when he hits something though. He had this ability to sense when something was going to hit him, or something bad was going to happen like a fire, or someone dangerous approaching their door. (Bruce shivers whenever he thinks of that time. They were sleeping at home when Peter tugged his arm to tell Bruce that an intruder was at their home. The green guy cooperated and the mere sight made the armed intruder faint.)  
  
He always knew Peter was a very special kid.  
  
And it turns out that something else knew that too.  
  
He sees it every year. Not annually, but every year, those things never fail to appear. Black shadows, lurking around. They'd trash the place, throw props off the shelves, swim through the air and rattle the hanging tools. They seemed drawn to the boy, always seeming to want to hurt him.  
  
Peter was too weak to do anything about it. And Bruce was too. The green guy couldn't do anything about it since nothing seemed to hurt the shadows. Bruce could only take Peter in his arms and run all around the city to shake them off. Peter learned to grab his hand and tug on Bruce's sleeve whenever he felt the shadows returning. And that sent them off running. There was a time where those things appeared every day. At very opportunity. (Bruce unnecessarily lost some weight due to this routine. He was actually already fit, but damn.)  
  
The shadows would wreck havoc everywhere else, but it was better them than Peter.  
  
Aparrently, their frequent 'field trips' caught the eye of one wizard.  
  
He had come one summer day through a fire sparky portal, right into their apartment. It wasn't the first time they met. He was another kindered spirit he had briefly made acquaintace with during a conference with Helen Cho. Stephen Strange.  
  
Strange had been in a terrible car accident. And it had ended his career. The last he had ever heard of him was that Strange had found someone that could cure him. But seeing his... odd get-up, Bruce can only wonder what happened.  
  
Strange glowered at the sight in front of him. Bruce took a moment to organize himself. Strange immediately began to snoop around.  
  
"Uh, you can't---"  
  
"There is a concentration of ethereal beings in this area." He didn't miss a beat as he inspected the place. "I saw one of them originate here," he spoke as if it explained everything. And it would've, had Bruce seen the connection whilst his baffled state. Strange turned to him sharply.  
  
"Do you have any artifact here, or anything with suspicious origins or don't mind my terminology, powers?"  
  
It took a while for Bruce to process what the wizard as asking him. "Uh... no...? Not that I'm aware of. All I have is my tools for the prosthetics." He directed his gaze at his workshop. Strange's expression changed into a hybrid of disappointment, confusion, and somehow, doubt.  
  
He looked beyond Bruce's shoulders, "What's what?" Bruce turned to see a little collection of pots that looked incredibly out of place in the middle of the apartment. Peter always loved nature, and it seems to be the only thing he cared about.  
  
And at that exact moment, Peter walked in. His pristine white prothesis, reflected the light with gloss. His brown locks were messy beyond imagination, and his footsteps were silent.  
  
Bruce felt Strange stiffen when spotted the boy. Peter stared for a good minute before his prothesis started rattling (a sound that made Bruce worry to great extents) and promptly brisk walked away.  
  
"That's it. It's him!" Stephen cried. "The spirits are attracted to this boy's prescence." He made a move to chase the boy when Bruce stopped him.  
  
"I-I'm sorry w-what are you talking about? Mr. Strange I appreciate the visit but you n-need to go. N-now." Bruce had seen Peter like that before. Peter was scared. He knew Peter could feel when something was coming, and while Peter didn't seem to have a sense of pain, Peter didn't like the feeling he had when he felt danger. Stephen Strange was a kind man (a little arrogant but still) but Bruce would never doubt his son.  
  
Strange looked at him shocked.  
  
"You knew about him?"  
  
Bruce shrugged as he led him to the door. "He's my kid!" He huffed.  
  
"It's a curse!" Strange blurts out but Bruce was intent to protect Peter at all costs. Stephen was already at the doorway when he speaks as a last resort. "I can help!" And Bruce pauses.  
  
"I can help," Stephen lowers his voice. "Those shadows are chasing him. They want to harm him. I can help him protect himself and maybe," he pauses, "lift the curse."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been in writing since March 29. Like what the actual heck. I lack the time and motivation, but I will try my best to finish this schtuff. To be honeson9
> 
> Please help with the next chap... I cannot decide whether the next chapter should be about Tony, or about Peter's childhood in the past 9 years...
> 
> Have a great week!


	6. Miscalculations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony knew the formula. Well enough to make anyone close to him not suspicious. He knew the formula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been pending for a long while. I tried to use your suggestions to come out of writer's block, but I'm sorry if this doesn't come out too good.
> 
> This chapter is slightly canon-divergent. Things happen in the wrong order, but it kinda makes more sense for me this way. It uses scenes and dialogue from the movie, butnsome are mixed and mashed together and with my fiction woven into the mix too. So it might get a really confusing.

Eras of Superheroes.  
  
Music came to life as the speakers blasted life into the exicted guests and spectators. The huge screen glowed a multitude of colors, bright and incredibly moving. If not dancing or partying up a storm was a crime, you will most definitely not get arrested. The environment was so convincing, every inch of you would come to life.  
  
Up there, roaring in the sky, was the sound blasters that almost made the music and lights mute. But they weren't, everyone's attention was simply affixed to the bright, hot red and gold spiralling in the sky. They watched the heap of metal clash as it landed in the perfect middle of the humongous stage, as the gold metal face folded upwards to show the great Tony Stark in all of his glory.  
  
The crowd erupts like a volcano as he spreads his hands wide, as if he was absorbing all the praise. What ever he does, it will always have flair. He could throw roses or some flowers around they will flock him like he were their shepherd. This was his life. His public life.  
  
Soon the party resumed, the preyful eyes watching him turned somewhere else, and the people lost themselves into a sea of alcohol.  
  
Tony slips away from the people, and heads downstage. Brushing past the random crew with one goal in his mind, get to the bar before the living nightmares began.  
  
He was sober, not an ounce of alcohol in his system (yet) for the past 12 hours, but he finds his footsteps wavering, shaking, as he almost falls over. He winces, a slight tinge of pain in his chest. His first instinct was to check his wrist. His mind was muddled, he pulls down his suit's sleeve.  
  
He reaches into his inner pocket and pulls out a small device. Keeping a wary eye around him, he pricks his finger.  
  
He frowns at the result displayed.  
  
He sucks in a deep breath and shakes his head.  
  
He'd have to go to the bar now.  
  
He'd think about those dark colorations drawn on his skin, and the palladium posioning that was slowly killing him.  
  
Drink first, think later.  
  
This was his last birthday party anyway.  
  
That's how Pepper found him the next morning. He was there, on the kitchen island, his hands firmly gripping the top as he stood there motionless.  
  
No, he wasn't thinking. He was drinking.  
  
Pepper was used to Tony's antics and crazy behaviour. How else could she have stayed working for him all this time? He was an alcoholic, he was strange, he was crazily brilliant. He was one hair thick from being totally insane. He had a tendency to be spontaneous, and he actually prided himself in the aspect.  
  
With the carefulness of a predator stalking its prey, she approaches him. She places down the files carefully in front of him.  
  
"Tony?" That seems to break him out of his stupor. He states at her, his sunken eyes struggling to focus. He automatically corrects his posture, his back stiffening. Even in his apparent drunken state, he was able to recognize the figure and her voice. He forces himself to swallow to ease his drying throat.  
  
"Pep." He croaks. He must have realized how horrible he sounded, if she would guess from his expression, because hid eyes widen and he shifts from his position to a neutral one. He didn't look like he was drunk at all. If you didn't notice his eyes, and how much he reeked of alcohol.  
  
Pepper didn't bother to comment on how he was drunk again. That'll get her to nowhere in this moment. Instead, she plays a different card.  
  
"You have a board meeting today. Next time, give me at least a 2 day heads up if you're going to cancel, Tony."  
  
"I'm not going." He sighs and walks away from the island, he didn't know where he was going yet, but he wanted the illusion of walking away from the conversation.  
  
"I know you're not." Pepper crosses her arms. She huffs. "You're not sober enough for the meeting. I'll reschedule it for tomorrow or next Thursday, alright?"

In any other circumstance, she would've reprimanded Tony, and force him into that meeting. But this one time where Tony actually looked defeated? It wasn't just a normal 'I want to get drunk' situation. She could almost hear Tony's explanation dying in his throat.

'I needed to get drunk.'  
  
Tony nodded, and tried passing off a tight-lipped smile. His eyes weren't smiling.  
  
Pepper would have to ask him about the 'why's' in a later time. She had a meeting to reschedule.  
  
Work now, ask later.  
  
Tony watched Pepper's retreating figure vanish from his sight. He brushes a hand through his hair, and sighs.  
  
It was a long, sleepless, and happily dreamless night. It was also a night where his brain wouldn't stop, but his body wouldn't allow itself to move any further than 5 steps from the bottles infront of him. He couldn't go to the lab and tinker until he would, as Pepper would put it, work himself to death.  
  
A high pitched noise in his ear.  
  
Ringing.  
  
No, it was his phone that was ringing.  
  
Figures.  
  
"Hey Tones, I was just gonna ask, do you have any more armour suits out and about? Or ar least missing?"  
  
"Rhodey." Rhodey. Rhodey. Rhodey. Rhodey. He closes his eyes, hoping that will calm his mind. He was going insane again. "Keep talking." He needed a distraction. He need to hear Rhodey's voice to calm him down. Everything was fine. No. Everything is fine.  
  
Rhodey interpreted it differently.  
  
"Yeah, I spotted another armour suit while I was out flying. They can't seem to lift off, but they blew a couple of planes, not ours, but it definitely wasn't theirs. It was clunky too. I wasn't able to land to check it."  
  
"No, no, " Tony breathed out. "All of my suits are here."  
  
Rhodey hummed through the phone. "That's odd."  
  
"Yeah, it is." Tony echoed absentmindedly. There was silence, and Tony assumed Rhodey dropped the call. He was about to lower the phone down when Rhodey spoke.  
  
"Tones, is everything alright?"  
  
Everything is alright. Except Tony. He was dying inside out, a horrifying aspect to think of. Emotionally, he was already gone, and physically, well the palladium posioning makes sure of that.  
  
Tony considers his words.  
  
Maybe he doesn't because they quickly slip through his mouth.  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
Rhodey curses from the other line. "How quick do you need me there?"  
  
"N-no. You don't need to come." The stutter came out naturally, but stuttering wasn't a confident Tony Stark thing. "Your voice is enough."  
  
There is shifting on the other line as Rhodey steadies himself. Tony took the silence as a breather, to calm his nerves a little more.  
  
"You alright Tones? You don't sound so good. Are you sure you don't need me to come over?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm just, remembered something."  
  
Tony could almost see Rhodey's doubtful look. Ever since his kid was taken from him, no matter how pained Tony was, he never missed a chance to talk to people. He couldn't let them on the the fact that he was grieving. He acted normal. He thought he'd done a fair job at it, but it seems like Rhodey knew something was up.  
  
"Tones, you could always talk to me. I'm here for you, man."  
  
Tony debated inside his head. Maybe Rhodey could help. He knew he needed help. He desperately needed help. He wanted help.  
  
"I remembered someone," he decided, "he was... very important to me."  
  
Rhodey paused to think. "Yinsen? The guy from the cave?"  
  
Tony never told anyone about what happened in the cave, aside from the escape part and the arc reactor (which he was incredibly vague about), he never told a single soul. Except Rhodey. When they crossed paths after Afghanistan and no longer in a damn wheelchair, Tony came clean. He felt incredibly indebted to the guy, and expressed his want to pay the guy back. When he saw the news on TV later while he was fixing the gauntlet, he knew he could do it.  
  
But right now, he wasn't talking about Yinsen. It was his kid. His son. But it made it infinitely easier to talk.  
  
"He... saved me, Rhodey." He saved me from becoming a man I would regret. He saved me from being so reckless. He saved me from being so much of a jerk. He saved me from thinking that someone like me wih so many mistakes could ever be loved.  
  
"He... he was a sacrifice. He didn't deserve to die, Rhodey. He was so young, he doesn't deserve it. It should've been me, Rhodey, it should've been me."  
  
"He knew the stakes, Tones,"  
  
"He didn't. He... He didn't. He was innocent." He was a baby. Too innocent.  
  
"Tony. I'm sure, that wherever he is right now, he is proud of you. He is happy that you are using the life he gave you to be better, and to save his people. I'm sure he's grateful."  
  
"No, he isn't."  
  
"Tony, man, I don't know what really happened there in that cave, but I am sure, as innocent as he was, he would never blame you for that. I know you feel like you owe him your life, and owing lives are never paid off, honoring them is the only way to repay them Tony. And honoring them is exactly what you did."  
  
"Will it go away?"  
  
"I don't know Tones. But it'll make things better."  
  
Tony let out a strangled laugh. "I sure hope so, Rhodey."

Tony was resolute that the next time he meets Rhodey, he won't put the pressure of releasing his emotion burden onto him. No one wants that kind of burden, especially from Tony Stark.  
  
Tony didn't expect to see Rhodey come up during the hearing with Justin Hammer.  
  
Tony could perfectly see how all the tables were turned against him, how every single person in the room had earbuds stuffed into their ears so that they wouldn't hesr anything that would oppose their beliefs. This wasn't a hearing at all.  
  
He didn't have a side, so when they called on Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodey, Tony was surprised.  
  
"Rhodey?" He watches as Rhodey comes forward and he stands up to greet him. "Hey, buddy, didn't expect to see you here." He speaks in his disguised tone.  
  
Rhodey stops to look at him. "Look, it's me, I'm here, deal with it. Let's move on." They had a small banter as they followed each other to their seats.  
  
Tony sunk in his chair, brooding. He was trying his best to look, distant, unbothered, and unaffected, but the meeting was slowly getting to his nerves.  
  
He knew what they were after.  
  
The goverment wants him to hand over the suits, under the guise of being concerned for public safety.  
  
Tony repressed whatever feelings he harbored for that statement.  
  
The goverment despises power that isn't in their own hands.  
  
Tony had that power. He had it, literally at his fingertips. The power of destruction and it's flipped-side of protection. The goverment, as he sees it, doesn't know how to handle power. They don't know how to play their cards yet, and neither does Tony, but he knew how much each turn, each page, each card costs.  
  
He knew that too well.  
  
These people, especially that secretary and Justin Hammer, never stayed awake at night. Maybe they did, they were too busy with work, an insomniac, but Tony was sure, he was so sure, that from the look on their faces they never cared about who they've trampled over to get where they are. About the casualties, those who were hurt, those who were almost hurt due to their reckless decisions. They didn't lie awake at night like he did.  
  
He felt restless, his body wouldn't betray him to show his immense desire to move, almost like a fight-or-flight response, but there was this pent up feeling.  
  
There came the straw that broke the camel's back.  
  
They played Rhodey.  
  
They didn't even finish their debate when Tony cuts in with his footage. His mouth hurriedly shot out words like it was a machine gun, he tried slowing it a little, he didn't want to sound too defensive.  
  
He was using it to protect the people. Whatever damage he may have caused, it was reasonable. Did they really expect that a large scale invasion of otherworldly creatures would have no casualties? Tony tried to minimize the damages, he really did. He would pay for all the damages and help those affected live normally again. Before he attacks, he made sure that no-one was in a a dangerous radius. He gave up his--- his-- his... tower to get rid of those things. He'd gladly take a blow if that meant he saves someone.  
  
His mind felt cloudy, and he suddenly felt restless as he tried to keep his mind more focused on the discussion (if it could even be called a discussion) instead of dwelling in the multitude of connections and emotions he had.  
  
"You want my tech? You can't have it!"  
  
That statement was on the papers for a long while. Tony knew that. He tried to slow down is panicked pace to give some time for Rhodey, who was picking up the pieces Tony ignored.  
  
A part of him wanted Rhodey to understand he needed a bit of space.  
  
A part of him wanted Rhodey to worry, to notice his fear and calm him down again.  
  
A part of him wanted Rhodey to ignore everything, to not notice his pain at all.  
  
Either way, he wasn't doing to say a word.  
  
After that declaration in the courtroom, he was finally speechless. The words in his throat dried up and withered. His motion stilled as he leaned on the wooden railing of the 2nd floor.  
  
That is how Rhodey found him.  
  
Tony had his back turned, so he couldn't see Rhodey's face. The only clue he had if the other caught on was whether or not their voice quivered.  
  
Rhodey, bless his soul, spoke in an even tone.  
  
Tony took it as a clue of ignorance.  
  
In a good way.

'Ignorance is bliss,' so they say.  
  
He wouldn't share his thoughts, not when Rhodey didn't ask for it.  
  
"That could've gone better."  
  
Tony tried his best to act normal. A geniune sounding laugh. A soft chuckle, that is what the situation called for. To not be so suspicious. To not raise questions.  
  
"Yeah, it could."  
  
He shifts his position when Rhodey moves closer to the railing. He closes his eyes for a split second.  
  
Looking away is too suspicious. Too slow movements are suspicous. He turns to face Rhodey. He makes his body seem relaxed and carefree. To show trust and honesty, one must turn one's body to face who they are addressing. _Don't cross your arms. Relax your shoulders. A resting face, but not a serious or blank one._  
  
It was a formula.  
  
So it was simple.  
  
Rhodey's stance is loose but still had the hint of his time in the military.  
  
Open, yet guarded.  
  
Rhodey's gaze is lost, slightly curious, but not yet suspicious.  
  
It will stay the same, if Tony plays his cards right. If he follows the formula.  
  
"I'm sorry Tones, this whole hearing was a trap. I thought I could get through to them. I made this report,"  
  
Tony offers a shrug. "It's not really surprising. If there's anything I've learned about the media and the public is that they will do everything they can to sway people to their side." His tone is even, he has to stay as non-chalant as ever. He isn't bothered by it, no, he isn't. He isn't. He _isn't_.  
  
"How'd you find the Justin's suits?"  
  
Tony blinks. _Pull up a slight smile. A bit of snark. A bit of ego in your voice. Keep following the formula just a bit more. You'll forget about it soon enough. Be distracted from it soon enough._  
  
"Oh you know, Rhodie-Bear," he whined, "just had to do some bit of a digging. I didn't even need a shovel, their security is as weak as a wet paper bag."  
  
"Alright, keep your secrets. I don't want to know."  
  
Silence. Just a short pause. He needs to distract him before Rhodey notices.  
  
"You know what, I'm feeling pasta. There's this Italian place near the tower, a perfect distance away. You should come."  
  
Rhodey rolls his eyes. "I already ate."  
  
"You sure? Maybe you're hungry again. You did a good 50 page essay, let's celebrate. It's my treat."  
  
"We've got this whole mess to clean up."  
  
"Well I'm not doing it, what's a bit of a breather before they attack us again?"  
  
"Tones."  
  
"If you want, I can have the pasta delivered."  
  
"Tony."  
  
Tony locks eyes.  
  
Rhodey's gaze is concerned, worried, searching.  
  
Tony knew.

It was so simple.

It was a formula.

He miscalculated the formula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really liked searching for body language clues and cues, and the idea of Tony using them to subconsciously throw off people suddenly invaded my head. That is how I continued off this chapter. I left this chapter for a long time on the Rhodey and Tony meets at courtroom scene, but when I remembered the body language thing, I just began writing again.
> 
> please point out grammar and spelling errors. english is not my first language...

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the first chapter. For the first time I have a plotline already planned out and also, this is my very first crossover/AUfan fiction! Yey!
> 
> I was binge watching a new anime (It came out Jan 2019) and it's called Dororo and it's freaking awesome. Then I thought of my two lovely father and son then I said, YEAH. HECK YEAH.
> 
> Check out Dororo cuz it's awesome, although this fanfic uses some plot points it's not entirely the same and I'll be adding my own things as well for the purpose of this AU/Crossover. plot.
> 
> It's okay if you don't know Dororo. Just read the fanfic along and discover the lore of my own alternate universe. It's still awesome.


End file.
